Lynne Graham - The Cozakis Bride

‘Miss Manoulis, you can’t go down there!’ the young receptionist exclaimed in dismay.

She would be a loser now whatever she did, Olympia reflected with despairing bitterness. Forcing a confrontation with Nik was the wrong line to take. No Greek male appreciated an in-your-face female challenge. He would react like a caveman, every aggressive primal cell outraged by such boldness.

As she headed for the door at the foot of the corridor, a set of male hands whipped round her forearms from behind and stopped her dead in her tracks.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Manoulis, but nobody goes in there without the boss’s say-so,’ an accented Greek voice spelt out tautly.

‘Damianos…’ Even after ten years Olympia recognised that gravelly voice, and her rigid shoulders bowed in defeat. Nik’s bodyguard, who was built like a tank. ‘Couldn’t you have looked the other way just once?’

‘For your grandfather’s sake, go home,’ Damianos urged in a fierce undertone. ‘Please go home, before you are eaten alive.’

Olympia trembled as the older man’s fingers loosened their hold. But that reluctance on his part to treat her like any other unwanted visitor was Damianos’s mistake. Breaking free without hesitation, she literally flung herself the last ten feet and burst through that door.

There was a blur of movement from behind the desk: Nik rising with startled abruptness at so explosive an interruption.

In the split second that she knew was all she had at her disposal before Damianos intervened again, with greater effect, Olympia parted her lips and breathed rawly, ‘Are you a man or a mouse that you won’t face one woman?’

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